Cross Shaped Memories
by Wolven Spirits
Summary: What if Kenshin had not given up the hitokiri? What if he had gone wandering, but had not stopped killing? How would those who had thought him dead, and those who had condemned him to death, face the truth? How will it change events yet to come?
1. Prologue Ch 1: To Find a way of lif

**Cross Shaped Memories  
**

**Summary**: What if Kenshin had not given up the hitokiri? What if he had gone wandering, but had not stopped killing? How would those who had thought him dead, and those who had condemned him to death, face the truth? How will it change events yet to come?

**Disclaimer**: I wish I owned Kenshin…or ANY of the characters…but… I don't. I only own those that you do not recognise…

**Author's Note**: **Warning**: I do not know Japanese! Thus…if I have the wrong title, a misspelling, etc, please let me know, but please don't get angry! I will try to the best of my abilities to make it as Japanese as I can, but my knowledge of the language and customs is very, very limited!

**Prologue**:

"But once the battle has been won…" Said the young boy who knelt by the body of his dead lover, "I will never again kill an innocent man." The soldiers who fought… the bodyguards he had killed, even some of the men specifically targeted… they had been innocent. Once the Meiji government was in place, he would not kill those who had wronged no one.

Katsura nodded. "I understand," he said softly, getting up to leave Himura in peace.

---

"I am a hitokiri, Katsura-san. Killing is what I do." The red-haired assassin spoke calmly, face betraying no emotions. He could not escape his past. He could not stop what had become a part of him. But he would never, ever again, kill an innocent being. Nor, he reflected, would he kill in front of an innocent person. His mind flashed to the horror and destruction he had witnessed as a child, and shuddered away. No, he would not let that happen to any of those round him. He would stop those acts of horror from being committed.

"The Meiji era has started, Himura. There will be no tolerance for swordsmen. It would be better for you to lay down your sword. Live the life you gave up when you started learning swordsmanship. I can give you land to farm, or a shop, or even a restaurant if you wish."

Himura glanced away. Land. A farm. Memories of Tomoe flashed in his mind. For a moment, he thought his scar would begin to bleed, but luckily, it did not. He felt sorrow weigh down his heart. He could no longer go back to a simple life. That chance had been ruined the day that he had killed Tomoe. No longer could he return to any life other than the sword, without her voice echoing in his mind, haunting his every move, plaguing him with unrelenting guilt. "Iie, I have no way to live but by the sword. Surely you know this, Katsura-san. The Bakumatsu is over, and the Meiji government will outlaw swords and weapons, this I know. But do not ask me to set aside the only life I can live, Katsura-san, for it would be impossible for me to do so." Blue tinted eyes closed, bangs covering the life-deprived eyes. Grief was something Himura had experienced many times, but experience did not seem to lessen its pain.

Katsura opened his mouth to speak, when a messenger knocked on the door softly, not wanting to interrupt, should the discussion prove to be important.

"Katsura-san, a message of utmost importance…" The messenger bowed both to Katsura and to Himura, placing the folded paper in Katsura's hand, and leaving with a final bow.

Katsura opened the letter, and read the brief message. A frown of anger creased his brow. He closed his eyes and bowed his head. He had feared that this would happen. "You leave tonight. You cannot stay here. They will kill you." His voice was curt, abrupt, angered, sorrowful. "I will have to send Shishio Makoto away as well. The Meiji government has no more use for assassins. They now fear the power you hold with your swords. They will send soldiers to assassinate you." Katsura turned his head away, as if in shame. "I have failed you, Himura. I am sorry." He said softly. "I cannot keep you in the safety of my power. Your life is in the government's hands. Travel, Himura," said Katsura, turning suddenly to stare the young hitokiri in the face. "Travel Japan. Stay hidden until they forget about you, or think you dead. Do not come back to Kyoto. You will not be safe here."

"Katsura-san," Himura said quietly, as if sensing the other man's mixed emotions. "There is nothing you could have done to prevent this. The knowledge of my existence was spread long ago. My actions in the Bakumatsu were regarded as heroic by the government, my power seen as unstoppable. That is what they fear. Nothing you do or say will change that. What they cannot control, they will kill. They see me as a rabid dog. In their eyes, I will attack the first person I see. I will go. Tonight. I thank you for the warning and-for everything. Katsura-san." Himura bowed low, before turning swiftly, and leaving the darkening room with the flowing grace of a skilled swordsman.

Katsura watched Himura leave, a sorrowful look crossing his face. The Meiji government already had spies in every organisation known to them. The Ishin Shishi were no exception. They would know where and when Himura left. He could only pray that the young swordsman could escape and disappear with his life.

---

Himura shouldered the small bag of provisions, and stepped out of the room that he would never again claim. Walking down the narrow hallway, he paused, sensing a strong ki approaching. Sure enough, moments later, another man came into view. Shishio Makoto. Himura studied the man, sensing strength, both inner and physical. He bowed his head slightly, and saw Shishio do the same. A feeling of mutual respect swelled between them, and Himura had a feeling that perhaps, had they met earlier, they would have been good friends - if a hitokiri could have any. Perhaps under different circumstances, they would have been close.

The moment seemed lost, as one of the maids stepped into the hallway, a basket of laundry clutched in her hands. The two assassins turned swiftly and went in their opposite directions, both feeling satisfied. It was as if they knew what the other was going through. It was too bad, Himura mused, that they could not leave together. Perhaps one day, however, they would meet again. Perhaps.

---

"There he is! Surround him!" Footsteps pounded on the dirt road, the sound of guns loading, cocking, ready to fire, reaching the ears of the red-haired hitokiri. "Fire!" yelled the commander, watching with satisfaction as the bullets raced towards the trapped assassin.

Himura could hear the whistling of the bullets as they sped towards him. He was running, but he could not outrun a bullet. He felt one graze his arm as he neared an old wooden bridge. There. It was his chance. He felt another bullet clip his side, passing straight through his flesh, and let his body jerk slightly at the impact. With an inconspicuous push of his foot, he crashed through the flimsy railing, and fell headfirst into the rushing torrent of deadly water.

---

Katsura bowed his head sadly. _One by water, one by fire. I am sorry, Himura, Shishio. It is because of me that you have died. Forgive me._ The black-haired man stared into the sunrise with a bitter resentment for the government he had helped create. But he would not let it end here. He would do his best to prevent any corruption. Inevitable corruption. It was hard to destroy a government, and even harder to rebuild a new one. But for Himura, Shisio, and the countless others the government had sentenced to death, he would continue on, in their names.

**Chapter one: To find a way of life**

_Five years. It has been five years, since I left civilisation,_ mused Himura, as he stared down at the small village below. He had gone to a few small villages, picked up supplies, had updated himself on the latest and most important news, and had left after no longer than one night. The government still thought him dead, but it was best not to test their memories. Despite the fact that he was far from Kyoto, he would take no chances.

He had been wandering the mountains, for most of the years, stopping every once and a while to practice his Hiten Mitsurugi, lest his skills diminish. It was his sullen sense of betrayal that did not seem to leave, no matter how hard he tried to overcome it, that spurred him on to surpass the skill he'd had even during the Bakumatsu. His anger towards the Meiji Government for becoming corrupted so easily, so quickly, urged him to keep training, despite the fact that he had not learned the final ougi. Perhaps he never would. Nevertheless, he would not let his skill with the sword falter.

He had bought a travelling cloak that he would wear to hide his swords. It was dark grey, which helped him blend in at night, contrasting with the red and white that he wore. No one would suspect him if he stood out so much.

He closed his eyes for a moment. He would find a way to integrate himself back into society. But what he would do… He was not sure. Perhaps a bodyguard… One still allowed to use weapons. Opening his eyes, he looked down at the small village again, and started down the hill.

---

Himura Kenshin gave the small city one last look, before turning back towards the trail leading into the dense forest, and walking off, sandals scraping the ground slightly. Just when he had thought that he could settle down… He thought almost bitterly. And yet, he found himself with no regrets. And neither, he reflected, did she.

He had thought that he loved her… the dark haired beauty, Miyu, with whom he had been staying for six months. But he had realised that he had been trying to find a replacement for Tomoe, even after all these years. At the height of their passion, he had been thinking of Tomoe, not Miyu.

He had not told Miyu of his revelation, but it was as if she could sense the subtle difference in him. He could still see her smile of sorrow and understanding.

"_Something holds you back," she said softly, tracing the scar on his cheek. "Someone… from your past. I cannot replace the one you loved."_

"_Miyu, I…" Himura trailed off, not meeting her eyes. He owed it to her. He owed it to her to marry her, to provide her with a life she could enjoy._

"_If we marry, we will both be unhappy. You, knowing that I am not the one you loved, and me, knowing that I could never possibly make you truly happy. No, you must find the one who can complete you. I am not she. Find the one who will erase all sorrow linked to your past love, who will fill you with acceptance and understanding. You will never replace her, but you will find someone who will fill the gap in your heart and soul." She smiled again, kissing him gently, one last time. "Do not worry, Himura Kenshin. I regret nothing. I am glad to have known you." She blinked away tears, unwilling to let them spill in front of him. Instead of grief, she had given him wisdom._

Himura stroked her cheek gently. "I will never forget you, Miyu. Forgive me," he said softly, before bowing, and walking away from yet another chance at a normal life.

No, he regretted nothing but the tears that had been left unshed. He wished that he could have at least wiped them away. But she did not like appearing weak. Leaving them sparkling like liquid crystals in her dark, sensitive brown eyes had been the best way.

---

"Katsura-san," murmured Himura softly, as he unfolded the letter that had been waiting for him as promised.

"_When seven years have passed, return to the outskirts of Kyoto. Stay hidden. You will find a small temple. Go there. If I am still alive, I will have left a message for you behind the statue inside. If not, you will know that I am no more. Now go, Himura, before it is too late," Katsura had told him before he had left Kyoto, and he had not forgotten. It was still a little bit risky to travel so close to Kyoto, but for Katsura-san, he would do it._

The letter was short, but most definitely written by Katsura-san.

_Himura,_

_If you are reading this, then I am eternally happy. It means that you are alive. For seven years I have wondered if you survived. Everyone said that you were dead. Eventually, I found myself believing it too, despite the small nagging deep down in the depths of my mind that argued otherwise._

_It has been seven years. The Meiji government has recalled the soldiers sent to kill the assassins hired during the Bakumatsu. All those that are left alive, are free to live as they please. If you are indeed alive, then you are free. I do not know what brought this change of mindset, but they will not hunt you, if they catch word of your existence._

_However, you must still be careful. There are many who wish you dead, and it would not be wise to flaunt your existence overly much._

_I pray that you have found a way of life that suits you._

_Live well,_

_Katsura_

Himura folded the paper exactly as it had been, and then picked up a small piece of coal. With it, he wrote the following words:

_Tomoe is, and always will be, my sheath._

He did not sign it; he did not need to. Katsura-san would understand.

Himura faced the sunset calmly. He did not know where the winds would next take him. As a rurouni, he let the wind direct him to his next destination. But he would never stay anywhere for long. Except with Miyu, he had never stayed anywhere for more than a few weeks. He would find a family or simply kind people willing to take him in for a while, earn some money, sometimes defend them against attacks, should they decide to travel, or if they were merchants, and then he would leave. He found it impossible to stay in one spot for too long. The wind pulled him away, and he found himself unable to resist the overpowering pull. Perhaps one day the wind would let him settle down, but for now, he would go where the wind blew strongest.

---

Katsura glanced at the letter place inconspicuously in the exact same spot in which he had left it. But as he stared at it, he noticed the words written in coal. He closed his eyes and smiled. _Himura…_ he thought to the sky, staring into the twinkling stars, _good luck_.

---

**Author's note: **Well, hope you liked the prologue and first chapter! The first chapter is not incredibly long, but since I put it in with the prologue, I decided not to make it quite so lengthy. The next one won't be short thought, don't worry!

If you want to read more about Kenshin's wanderings, just tell me, and I will add in more for the next chapter! If you want me to go straight to Kyoto, I could do that as well.

Please tell me what you think of it so far! Is it worth continuing on? Any comments would be welcome! Constructive criticism would be wonderful too! Thanks!


	2. A Wanderer

**Cross Shaped Memories**

**Summary**: What if Kenshin had not given up the hitokiri? What if he had gone wandering, but had not stopped killing? How would those who had thought him dead, and those who had condemned him to death, face the truth? How will it change events yet to come?

**Disclaimer**: I wish I owned Kenshin…or ANY of the characters…but… I don't. I only own those that you do not recognise…

**Author's Note**: **Warning**: I do not know Japanese! Thus…if I have the wrong title, a misspelling, etc, please let me know, but please don't get angry! I will try to the best of my abilities to make it as Japanese as I can, but my knowledge of the language and customs is very, very limited!

**Chapter two: A wanderer**

Himura sighed softly as he felt four presences approaching. Their _ki_'s were tainted, blackened by their actions, perhaps as much as his were, but for different reasons. _Bandits_. He assumed, waiting to ambush him. Two in front, two from behind. Not very experienced, but ruthless, with no regard towards anyone else's well-being.

The red-haired traveller let his left hand stray to the sheath of his katana, waiting patiently as he walked for the bandits to attack. They did so with pounding footsteps, harsh breath, and yells that would have betrayed their presence even to an amateur.

Clutching his sheath, he moved forward, steps quickening, right hand moving to the hilt of his sword. He released his blade with a slight _tch_, and drew it with the sound of metal against metal, ringing of purity, as if mocking, contradicting his actions.

He dodged the first wild swing of an axe, sinking his blade into the man's soft, unresisting stomach. With a slight wrench of his blade, he ripped it free, watching impassively as the blood drenched the ground below the dying man. Whirling, he met the next attacker, blocking the sword blow. For a moment, they were locked, when the bandit found himself suddenly lurching forward, his victim having disappeared. He barely got a chance to scream, as a sword sliced through his neck, decapitating him with a sickening ease.

Blue hued eyes, tainted with specks of amber, turned towards the two who were trying to sneak up from behind. "Give up," his cold voice reached their ears, promising pain and death, should they continue to approach. "You have no chance. Leave now, and your lives will be spared," he brought his blade up to rest upon his arm. Without even having to read the reaction in their ki's, he knew that they would attack. Angered yells, they charged, uncoordinated, unsuited to attacking at the same time. He ducked the first sword, spearing upwards in a ruthless motion, stabbing through the now-twitching corps. Then he whirled, jerking free the blood-covered blade to slice off the second man's arm, and then cleaving his skull in two.

Kneeling, he wiped his blade clean, staring at the shining metal. _Tomoe. Is this what you wanted? Did you want me to atone for my sins this way? When you saved me… Did you know that I would not stop killing? Could you see the demon inside of me, that did not fear the act of killing, that would not cringe at the sight of blood, that would stop at nothing to achieve its goals? To kill to protect? That is what I thought I did before. That is what I think I do now. Am I wrong? Is this not what you wanted? Do you look down upon me with shame or with love? _"Could you still love me, Tomoe," he murmured softly as he sheathed his katana, standing up smoothly.

He stared at the motionless corpses, and sighed softly. Picking them up one by one, he placed them side-by-side, under a large boulder. _May you rest now and forever,_ he said silently.

Gathering up the sac he had placed on the ground, prior to the commencement of the fight, he continued along the path, not one drop of blood sullying his clothes. But staring up at the iridescent stars, he could smell blood upon the wind that urged him on.

_Tomoe,_ he could not forget her face, trying to smile at him, as she drew her last few breaths. _I do what I believe is right. I hope… I hope that that is enough._

---

The screams were getting louder, as Himura approached at full speed, barely pausing to duck a low branch that threatened to cut his face with sharp jutting twigs. The sound of muffled sobs reached his ears, and he quickened his pace, if that was even possible. As the trees seemed to part before him, upon his approach to the sight of destruction, he could see the dead bodies savagely hacked, and a man approaching a young woman who seemed to by trying to shield another.

"Please, do not kill my daughter, please, spare her, I beg of you! Please, don't – _ah_!" Her pleading was cut off as a sword was pushed through her chest, sprouting out the other end, bloodstained and tainted with the blood of yet another innocent. As she slumped to the ground, the form of a small child could be made out, sobbing as quietly as possible, shaking with unashamed fear, radiating the innocence that had yet to be lost, despite all of the bloodshed and cruelty she had just witnessed.

Memories of his own childhood flashed in front of his eyes. So similar… The situation had been so similar… it was… almost ironic, how the situation seemed reversed. Now he was the one who had come to 'save the day'.

Speeding past all of the other men, who had already killed those left, he leapt towards the man who was slowly raising his sword, a cold smirk marring the dirty, corrupted face. Soundlessly, wordlessly, he swung his now unsheathed sword, and cleaved downwards. His sword passed in front of the man's face as a slight blur in the air, hitting the man's sword with a slight metallic _ting_, then stopping abruptly and switching directions. He slammed the hilt of his sword first into the man's throat, and then into his temple, effectively knocking him unconscious. As the unconscious man's sword dropped to the ground, it broke in two, the blade cleanly cut.

Amber eyes closed for a moment, as if trying to control something that threatened to overwhelm, before glancing up, and towards the remaining men. "What you have done is unforgivable. Leave now and find a way to begin to atone for your sins, or stay here and suffer the consequences," he said coldly, pointing his sword at the group. There were about seven or eight of them, but none of them were used to fighting in a group. Once again, Himura could use that to his advantage.

While a few of them had received advanced training in swordsmanship, the gap between their skill and his was exceedingly obvious. But despite the part of him that screamed at him to kill them, to serve as justice, he took no lives. He would not break his vow. He would not risk the creation of another Battôsai. The flat and the dull edge of his blade were more than enough to defeat the group of ruffians.

As the last man fell to the ground, he sheathed his still-clean sword, and turned to the girl. She looked so young, so innocent, so fragile, as she shook the corps of her dead mother, as if trying to shake life back into the dead body.

"Mama," she whispered, "Please come back, Mama, I promise I'll always be a good girl, Mama, I've been good! I promise, the Battôsai won't have any reason to come take me away! I'll never do anything bad again, I promise. Mama, please… Mama…" She sobbed, her small hands clenched onto the soft fabric of her mother's flower-patterned kimono.

Kenshin closed his eyes for a moment. Battôsai… He could still remember the first time he had heard about the childhood threats that were most feared by the youngest generation. A young girl of perhaps eight or nine, whom he had encountered in one of the small villages, had first made him aware of the many uses of his fear-inducing name.

"_Well, Mama is sick, so we brought her here to this village, 'cause they have the best doctor ever! But I'm not gonna stop practicing, in case…" she glanced around almost nervously, and then leaned forward and spoke in a confidential whisper "In case the Hitokiri Battôsai comes 'cause I've been a naughty girl. If he does come, I will fight him! But shh, you can't tell Papa, 'cause he says I'm too young to be learning the sword, even if it is a _bokken_. But if I don't, then there won't be no one to protect him and Mama!" She giggled slightly, naïve blue eyes sparkling with childish joy. Her smile seemed to brighten everything around her, and Himura found himself relaxing slightly, despite his intense paranoia of being found. It had not, after all, been very long since he had been 'killed'._

_Her mother was ill, so ill that they'd had to travel here from-where? He was not sure, but they'd had to leave their home, in hopes that this child's mother would get well._

_For a moment, it felt like all of his burdens were feathers compared to what this child must be going through. To have her mother ill like this… He knew what it was like to lose family, and while over the years it had become something of the past, he knew that it was one of the hardest things to endure._

_The young girl perked up at the sound of someone calling for her. "Oh! I have to go, Papa is calling," she smiled at him brightly. "Maybe I'll see you again, Mister," she said, as she ran, waving, to her stern-looking father. She grabbed onto her father's hand, even as he glanced back towards Himura almost suspiciously, before leading her away, deeper into the village._

He opened his eyes, focusing on the still sobbing child. He knelt down, and rested his hand gently upon her small shaking shoulder. "She is gone. I'm sorry. I was not fast enough to save her," he said softly, his voice as soothing as possible. "Come," he stood up slowly, even as she glanced up at him with a tear stained face, eyes pleading for comfort. "Let us bury them."

---

Her small form shuddered slightly under the blankets they had salvaged. At least the bandits had not managed to destroy everything. The young girl – Yuki – was whimpering quietly, her small mouth forming the names of those she had lost earlier that week. Himura glanced at the fish that was cooking over the stone-ringed fire. It was probably done by now.

Removing one of the sticks, he let it cool down for a few minutes, before gently waking the sleeping child. "Yuki-chan," he said softly, "Here is your dinner," he waited until she was fully awake, sitting up and rubbing her sleep-filled eyes, to hand her the fish. She took his silently, with a small smile of thanks. Himura took his own and began eating. She was almost as quiet as he was. But being the child that she was, curiosity often took over her taciturn personality, and she would question rather freely. Not that he really minded, unless it got too personal.

He had, of course, learned a bit about her as well. She was six, and had been the only child in her family. She was quiet, but at times, when she was not thinking of those she had lost, she showed hints of having been a bright, enthusiastic child. She would create rhymes to amuse them both while travelling, or sing the lullaby that her mother had used to sing. Her voice, though young and inexperienced with the full usage of her vocals, held a calming, soothing tone, lulling the body to a much-needed resting state.

"Kenshin-sama," her soft voice pulled him from his silent musing.

He glanced at her, almost fondly, though it was hard to find any hint of emotion showing on his visage. She had taken to calling him Kenshin-sama three days ago, after they had buried her family. He felt unworthy of the total devotion implied by the title, and yet it warmed his seemingly frozen heart. "Yes, Yuki-chan?" He replied gently, glancing at the small girl.

"Did mama and papa do something wrong? Were they being punished for doing something bad? I never saw them do anything bad. Did they hurt the people who killed them?" She asked, her expression the epitome of sorrow.

"No," he said, after pausing slightly. He had known this would come, but it did not make it any easier in answering. "They did nothing wrong," he said finally. "They wronged no one. No one was seeking vengeance. They were not being punished." He faltered, unable to think of more to say. He had never been one to deal well with situations like these.

"Then… then why did they die? And… and why didn't I die? Why did you save me? I've never done anything nice for you. In fact, I've been a bad girl. I called my friend stupid, before I left, and I didn't apologise. I didn't even say bye to him! Bad girls shouldn't be saved," tears welled up in her eyes, falling as she blinked her large brown eyes.

He closed his eyes momentarily. "They were victims of people who were not strong enough to find a better path, a better way to live. They sought the easy path. The wrong path. The path of death and destruction. They gave up on a better life. They pulled away from their humane side, and gave in to their inner demons. That is why your parents died. They were the victims of demon-ridden bodies. But those murderers were still souls, still alive. And in the end, a dead body is a dead body. Perhaps they had wives and children, and needed to feed them. It is simply that they chose the wrong path.

"But do not go thinking of vengeance, Yuki-chan. They killed your parents. Perhaps you will hate them forever, if you cannot seek deep within yourself to find forgiveness. But if you seek revenge and kill them, then their wives will curse you, their children will see you as you now see those men. It is a circle that will not stop, until someone is strong enough to break the chain that links it together. That someone could be you. You are not a bad girl, Yuki-chan. I am guessing that your words were in self-defence. Your friend most likely regrets what he said to you that made you react as you did. But if you cannot rid yourself of your guilt, then do what you think you must, to atone for your sins. Help others, in atonement for hurting your friend's feelings. First you must realise your mistakes, and then you must find a way to fix them. That is strength. To forgive – others, but also yourself." For a moment, he had forgotten that he was speaking to a six-year-old. But when he glanced at her again, he had a feeling that she had understood every single word he had just spoken. "Sleep now, Yuki-chan. You will need your strength for tomorrow again." He tossed the fish skeletons into the fire, and pulled the blanket over her small form. She glanced up at him, almost shyly.

"Goodnight, Kenshin-sama," she said softly, with a small smile, large brown eyes staring up at him, seeking reassurance and comfort.

"Sleep well, Yuki-chan," he replied his hand resting on her head for a moment, before he turned to set another log on the fire. They had been travelling for three days. Normally he would have reached the nearest village by now, but with Yuki, it would take at least twice as long. And yet… he found that he did not mind. Her presence… it was comforting. He could forget his pains and regrets, while he was around her. Her innocence radiated off of her in waves that dampened his thoughts of fighting and killing. _I'm going soft_, he realised. Oddly enough, he felt no regret. It was odd, really, to think that this young girl had changed him so much in a mere three days. He felt no real urge to fight, no urge to feel the rush of battle, the satisfaction of coming out victorious, as he often did when he took up his role as a hitokiri and killer.

He leaned against a tree, his katana propped up against his shoulder. He stared into the dancing flames of the cheerful, yet deadly, fire, before finally falling asleep.

---

Six days of travelling had finally led them to a small village, relatively secluded from the large cities of Japan. Kenshin had approached the village leader, and had miraculously found a couple who were more than willing to take in Yuki. With two other children to now call brother and sister, she would be happy.

"Arigato, Ketta-san," he bowed his head at the wife, who would take care of Yuki with her husband.

She smiled fondly. "Iie, it is us who should be thanking you, for bringing such an angel into our lives. We have been trying for another child, but," her face fell slightly, "I do not know if I will be able to bear any more children." Her face brightened. "But I should not be loading my worries onto you like this!" She smiled. "And I think that Yuki wishes to say goodbye," she said softly.

Surely enough, Yuki poked her head from behind the door. "Kenshin-sama," she said, almost tearfully. "You're not staying?" She stepped down onto the walkway leading away from the house.

"No, Yuki-chan. I cannot stay." The wind pulled at his hair, as he laid his hand on her head gently. "You will be happy here. Be a good girl, Yuki-chan. And remember what true strength is." After a moment's hesitation, he wrapped his arms around her, and pulled her close, taking in her comforting innocence one last time. He could feel her body shaking slightly, as she tried to muffle sobs. He felt sorrow well up within him. He did not deserve such affection. "Goodbye, Yuki-chan." He stood up, gently prying her hands from around his body. He squeezed her small hands gently, before glancing up at Ketta Hanai, who came up behind Yuki to comfort the small girl. Releasing Yuki's hands for the last time, he turned and walked down the stone path, the wind pushing at his back with renewed fervour. Yes, it was time for him to leave.

---

As he looked back at the small village, he let a small smile grace his lips. Taking care of Yuki had reminded him of his time in Otsu with Tomoe. Never would he forget that experience, and never would he forget this one. "Tomoe," he whispered softly, staring into the morning sun. "I hope you are smiling down upon me,"

---

**Author's note**: Some more wanderings… Did you like Yuki? Was she well portrayed? Or was it confusing? What do you think of Kenshin's character? I do purposely use Himura, since he has not truly run away from being Himura Battôsai…

Well, hope you enjoyed the chapter! Do you still want more wandering tales? I will most likely go into Tokyo now, but I can add some more if you really want me to.


	3. To Deny the Wind

**Cross Shaped Memories**

**Summary**: What if Kenshin had not given up the hitokiri? What if he had gone wandering, but had not stopped killing? How would those who had thought him dead, and those who had condemned him to death, face the truth? How will it change events yet to come?

**Disclaimer**: I wish I owned Kenshin…or ANY of the characters…but… I don't. I only own those that you do not recognise…

**Author's Note**: **Warning**: I do not know Japanese! Thus…if I have the wrong title, a misspelling, etc, please let me know, but please don't get angry! I will try to the best of my abilities to make it as Japanese as I can, but my knowledge of the language and customs is very, very limited!

**Chapter Three: To Deny the Wind**

"My turn! It's my turn, right Kenshin-san?" The young girl tugged on the white hakama impatiently, eagerly awaiting her turn to ride upon the shoulders of the red-headed wanderer.

"Maa, maa, be patient, Kana, your sister will be done in a few moments," a kind smile pacified the young child of around five years old.

Kana smiled, though she did not let go of her grip on his hakama, instead choosing to walk along beside the rurouni, laughing along with her twin sister. They were rascals, the two of them, always trying to confuse their elders of their identities, often posing as the other to see how long they could fool their parents. They were rather disappointed when they found out that it would not work on Kenshin, but they were determined to catch him off guard someday…

It was around ten minutes later, when the door to the garden slid open gently.

"Himura-san, would you care for lunch?" called out a pretty young woman, black hair tied simply, yet elegantly, in a bun. Sincere black eyes gazed upon the three with an open air of fondness, particularly for the two smallest.

"Aa, that would be most welcome, Isha-dono," he replied, bowing his head slightly, despite the fact that Kana was currently on his shoulders. The young girl giggled at the sudden motion, and wrapped her arms around his head tightly to keep herself from falling. Kenshin chuckled and reached up, gently prying away the small arms, and removing Kana from his shoulders, despite her protests. Setting her down beside her sister, he knelt down. "Now, this one thinks that the both of you should wash up before breakfast. It would please your mother, that it would."

"Hai!" Both girls chorused, before racing into the house, past a grateful-looking mother.

"You are wonderful with the children, Himura-san. I am grateful," she smiled, while the two of them made their way to the dining area.

"You are blessed with these wonderful daughters. I am thankful that you have taken me in, that I am," he replied, as they sat around the table. "But I have been imposing upon your hospitality for a week now," he said, his hands resting on his lap.

Isha-san smiled kindly. "One week is very little, Himura-san. You are of no burden to us. And besides, the children love you. And I do believe that you have helped us more than we have helped you," he added, rather dryly.

Isha-san was, of course, speaking the truth. Kenshin had been helping around the house as much as he could. Whether it was laundry, shopping or cooking, if he could help in any way, he would. It had surprised the host's family to no end, of course. From a sword-wielding wanderer to a domestic helper? Certainly not something one expected to see everyday.

Kenshin smiled slightly and dipped his head. "It is the least I can do to repay you for your kindness," he all but protested. "Not many people are willing to take in strangers who wield swords," he tilted his head, glancing up. "For this, you have my gratitude," he said sincerely. A breath of wind stirred Kenshin's hair, carrying the laughter of the two children from down the hall, almost like a warning. For the safety of this family, he would stay no longer. "But I feel that it is time for me to leave, that I do."

"Surely you will not leave so suddenly! With so little warning…" Isha-dono trailed off. "At least stay for one more night," she said, as if it were they who owed it to him, instead of the other way around.

Deciding against a lengthy argument, he conceded. "One more night, this one will stay."

Isha-san clapped his hands together. "Come now, let us enjoy the meal, and forget these sorrowful words for a little while," he smiled genially, as his two daughters came in, still giggling about something that – undoubtedly – only they would understand. For a few moments there was a small squabble, until they resolved their little problem by both taking a spot on either side of the redheaded rurouni.

Kenshin smiled slightly, hiding the sorrowful feeling that welled up inside of him. He would miss them, but leaving was for the best. He had ignored the wind before, and regretted it still to this day.

"_Just one more day, please, Himura-san!" the young widow begged, eyes pleading as she held onto his arm._

_The wind whipped his body warningly, forcing him to plant his feet firmly to prevent himself from falling. He opened his mouth to refuse, when he paused, eyes caught on her desperate face. He sighed slightly. "Very well, one more day, I will stay. And then, I _will_ leave." He added sternly._

"_Yes," she broke out into a bright smile, lighting up her whole face. She wrapped her arms around him tightly. "Thank-you!" she said happily. "I will make some dinner now," she turned and walked into the kitchen. "Oh, Himura-san, could you go get some tofu? It seems we are out…" She smiled, almost nervously, though sincerely._

"_Of course," he replied, taking a wooden bowl, and heading out. It did not take him long to buy it, though the walk home was no stroll in the park… the wind seemed intent on pushing him back… away from Raya's house. The wind whipped through his hair, threatening to pull it from its high ponytail, his clothes and cloak billowing out behind him, as he walked carefully, making sure not to drop the tofu. _

_As he walked closer to Raya's house, he began to hear voices, carried along with the strong wind. A female voice, and an angry male's voice…_

"_No, please, don't! I…"_

"_Shut up! Useless woman, you think you can just go and do whatever you want, with whomever you want? You're mine, you hear? Mine!"_

_Kenshin's eyes widened as he recognised the male voice. It was Keta, the man who was always staring at Raya. The man who was obsessed with Raya. He felt his hands tighten around the wooden bowl in his hands, his knuckles whitening with the pressure. His steps quickened, despite the harsh wind, as he approached the scene with dread in his heart._

_The wind screamed its defiance, but he ignored it, walking until Raya's small house came into view. His eyes widened slightly, as he saw Raya on the ground, holding her cheek with one hand, supporting herself with the other. Towering over her frail-looking body was indeed Keta, his fist pulled back, ready to strike her again. _

_Himura stopped, a few feet away from them. His bangs shaded his angered gaze, hands still clutching the bowl. "This one would ask that you would refrain from hitting Raya-dono again."_

_Keta's head jerked up at the sound of his voice, and his eyes narrowed in anger. "You!" He spat in fury, moving his hand to his waist, and drawing his sword. He ignored Raya's cries of distress, her pleadings to stop. "You're the one who's been fooling with my woman! I won't let you get away with this," he snarled, rage melded into his every move._

_Himura bowed his head. "This one would prefer to avoid violence. This one apologises for any offences, but no harm was meant." His cloak covered his swords perfectly, hiding them from view. From his small stature, it would be easy to think him weak._

"_Silence!" Keta's sword flashed forward, and Himura jerked his hands slightly to the left, so that the sword caught the wooden bowl of Tofu, instead of his hand. The bowl went flying, splashing its contents onto the ground below. The red-haired rurouni let his hands fall to his sides. Keta seemed ready to charge forward, when Raya grabbed the edge of his hakama._

"_Please! He did nothing wrong, it was my fault! Please, don't hurt him! Let him go! It won't happen again, I promise!" she cried out, pleading. But it seemed all in vain._

"_I won't let anyone mess around and get away with it," he said, with a violent kick that dislodged Raya's hand, and sent her sprawled on the ground once again._

"_I understand that you are angry," Himura's voice sounded, cold, merciless, "but to hit a woman is unforgivable, no matter your state." He lifted his head, golden eyes piercing and unforgiving. "I would avoid violence," he parted his cloak, revealing his swords, resting his right hand along the longer katana. "But it seems that it is not possible this time."_

_Keta stared at him, a strange feeling entering his body as he stared into the amber gaze. There was something about it that made his blood run cold. Something about that youthful face that unnerved him. The impassive face that few were able to attain, never mind keep… No, there was something odd about this boy. Something wasn't right. "You have no right to say what I should and should not do!" He growled, his fury sparked once again. "I'll teach you a lesson!" he charged forward, sword swinging. He aimed for the boy's face, but once he reached his target, he found no one there. Instead, he heard a voice from behind him._

"_If that is all you have to attack with, then you have no hope."_

_Keta turned around, eyes wide, as he saw the rurouni standing behind him, glaring coldly. How had he moved so quickly? Keta knew that he was a fast runner – he used to always beat the other boys when he was young. And now he could beat all the other swordsmen in the village. This boy… this _boy_ dared insult him like that? With a roar of fury, he charged again, anger pumping in his veins, red blinding his vision as he let his emotions take control. Yet he had barely taken a step when he felt pressure on his arm. He glanced down to see Raya, with both hands wrapped around his arm._

"_Please," She whispered, eyes begging him. "Don't hurt him! Please!" she pleaded desperately._

_His eyes widened. She dared plead for this boy's life? He felt rage flare up within him. He swung his arm as hard as he could, and felt satisfaction as the sound of a blade cutting through flesh reached his ears. That would teach her a lesson. He lifted his arm, and waved it in a forward motioning movement, like a signal. Sure enough, three or four men stepped out, each holding their weapon, faces eager for battle, eyes focused on the small figure that the redhead represented._

_Kenshin's eyes widened as he saw Keta's large and powerful arm swing back, the sharp edge of his blade catching Raya in the chest. The large man obviously did not realise the devastation his strike had caused. Yet to simply strike a woman with so little care, with no thought as to her safety… That was unforgivable. He felt his eyes narrow, as anger flared within him. No man should disregard something so precious as a woman…_

_He watched in cold contemplation as the man gestured for the others to reveal themselves. But it was no surprise to him. They made no effort to hide their presence, except for physically, which did little good against most trained swordsmen. It was obvious that people were getting soft these days… weaker, now that swords and weapons were outlawed… it was a shame._

_Himura watched as the man charged forward, sword raised high. The strike could have easily killed the rurouni, had he not dodged. Keta's sword slammed into the ground, where Kenshin had stood moments ago. The other four men had formed a sort of semi-circle, all waiting for their chance in battle, each wanting to prove themselves before the others._

_Golden eyes stared coldly from his attacker's right. Keta turned, rather startled that the small man had been able to dodge his blow so easily. He frowned, and charged again, this time angling from his left in a vicious back-handed blow. But Himura dodged this with just as much ease as before. _

_Kenshin brought up his sword and met Keta's with a loud _clang_ that reverberated throughout his body. He stared up at the larger man, his emotionless gaze penetrating deep into the other's gaze, accusing, merciless. He would not let this man live. Eyes narrowed even more, as the smaller man pushed forward, and jumped backwards. "Keta," he spoke coldly, his voice slightly harsher than usual, "I will claim your life with this sword." And with that, he leapt forward._

_Keta's eyes narrowed, then widened in fear at the pure and utter ruthlessness that the young man displayed. He felt a cold chill run down his spine as his opponent spoke, chilling him to the core. This man… there was definitely something about him. Something that – his thoughts were cut off as the rurouni charged, golden gaze fixed upon him. He raised his sword in a half-hearted attempt, only to find that the redhead had jumped, and was now above him. He had no chance to move, as he watched in utter terror the sword that descended as if from the heavens, accompanied by that chilling gaze of unforgiving golden eyes. _

_Giving Keta no time even to scream, Himura let his sword strike the man's head from above, before removing his sword from the man's body, and landing lightly a few feet away. Blood splattered from the fatal wound, and Keta was dead before he even hit the ground. With a slight jerk of his sword, he rid the blade of the blood that stained it. His cold gaze then turned to the other four men, who stood frozen in their spots. He could smell their fear, their disbelieving gazes focused on Keta, rather than on him. He took one step forward, and then another, letting his sandals scrape on the floor, alerting them of his presence. They backed up, but Himura had no intentions of letting them go. After all, a hitokiri never leaves witnesses._

_It was over quickly, for they had even less skill than their leader. He knelt down to clean his blade, when his head jerked up, as he sensed another approaching. The sound of rapid footsteps was soon brought by the wind, and Himura stood up. The ki was not strong, nothing impressive, but he turned to face the quickly approaching assailant anyway, blade unsheathed, still dripping with fresh metallic blood._

"_Raya-sama! Raya-sama! I found this kitten near the river! Raya-sama, could y-" the voice of the young child cut off suddenly, as he rounded the corner, and took in the scene of carnage that lay before his eyes. His eyes roved over the dead bodies, paused on Raya's, and then flicked to the rurouni, who stood with his sword still bloodied. He watched in fear as the redhead lifted his head, and stared at him with those piercing golden eyes. He trembled, clutching the wounded kitten in his small arms. Terror coursed through him as he watched the swordsman take one step forward, and then another, hesitating slightly, as if fighting an internal battle, but advancing nonetheless. A small whimper escaped his mouth, eyes tearing up as his eyes fixated on the lethal blade. He could see his death now. All he could do was pray that it would be swift and painless. Hopefully the kitten would survive and live happily…_

_Himura's eyes focused on the small child. He could be no older than twelve. He was trembling with fear. He could smell it from here. The boy was scared, and rightly so. For a moment he hesitated, pausing in his thoughts. The boy… the boy was innocent. He had done nothing wrong. But he had seen him surrounded by dead bodies, and that was enough. He could not risk exposure. He felt a sudden urge to charge at the boy, to run his sword through the sweet, innocent flesh that was so conveniently in front of him. He paused again. These thoughts… they were what happened to people who could not control themselves… people who got lost in the killing, in the bloodlust that would eventually dictate and destroy their lives. No. He pushed away the feeling, and continued approaching the young boy._

"_Forgive me," he whispered softly, as he swung the blade, moonlight flashing along its razor edge. He knelt down beside the small body, and wiped his blade with a soft cloth, before sheathing it. He glanced at the kitten in the boy's arms, and stood up. It would die soon as well. He took a step towards the forest then paused, glancing back. Golden eyes surveyed the mass of bodies. He bowed his head. "May you rest in peace," he said quietly, before disappearing into the night._

Kenshin closed his eyes for a moment, letting the guilt wash over him. Over and over he would see the small body hitting the ground with a soft _thud_, not big enough to even make much sound. His hands trembled slightly and he rubbed them, as if to rid them of the blood that seemed to soak them. He looked up as Isha-dono called his name in concern, and smiled.

"Forgive me, this one's mind was simply wandering," he chuckled lightly.

---

The next morning, he got up early with the sun, and placed his belongings in his small bag. He felt the wind ruffle his hair as he walked outside, heading towards the gates.

"Himura-san," Isha-san's voice came from behind him. Kenshin turned, and smiled slightly as he saw the couple walking towards him. Seemed he could not sneak out unnoticed. "Surely you were not thinking of leaving without a goodbye, were you?" A small understanding smile flitted upon the host's face.

"Ah, iie, this one simply did not want to disturb you," Kenshin bowed his head slightly. "This one thanks you for your hospitality. It will not be forgotten." This time he bowed his body slightly, instead of only his head.

Isha-dono waved her hand slightly. "Nonsense. I do believe we benefited more than you did," she smiled. "The children will miss you," she tilted her head slightly, and shook her head. "But be careful," she warned. "I have heard rumours of a murderer. Someone by the name of Hitokiri Battôsai… He killed three men two nights ago in Tokyo, and we are fairly close…" Her face wrinkled slightly in concern. "He has been targeting policemen so far, I think, but…" Her eyes glanced towards his swords. "Please, be careful!"

Kenshin blinked, then smiled. An impersonator? Well, he supposed it was not all too unusual… Many people found it convenient to use his name, and induce fear into others, while really, they had very little true skill. "Do not worry, Isha-dono. I will be careful. I promise." He bowed again, his smile widening slightly as they returned it. With his heart a little lighter, he left their home, and took route towards Tokyo.

----

Kenshin stared at the large expanse of city before him. Tokyo. Perhaps he would find the impersonator, or perhaps not. He had no doubt that the government would send someone to investigate. After all, he was supposed to have died ten years ago.

He took one step forward, then another, unaware that within the next twenty-four hours, his life would change forever.

---

**Author's Note**: Waah, that took forever to type! Very sorry, I was involved with a school drama production (I did fight scenes, yay! Hehe) so that took up weeks of practice (I was at school for 12 hours many days, and there were weekend practices too!) then I had homework to catch up, and…yeah, it all got delayed. But here you go!

The flashback is a LOT longer than I expected, so I hope it's not too long and boring… o.O; there wasn't much development in this chapter, but as you can see, he's becoming more of a rurouni now. Thanks for the WONDERFUL reviews that you have given me! I appreciate them all! I would love to get some more reviews; they really help me keep typing! I'll try to update faster next time xD


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